


At Long Last

by imyourplusone



Category: The Blacklist (US TV)
Genre: F/M, One Shot, for reasons other than a global pandemic, jigsaws and other stuff, red and lizzy puzzling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:14:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23807479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imyourplusone/pseuds/imyourplusone
Summary: There have been many puzzles. Big ones and little ones of every subject imaginable, as constant as the fedora that is always nearby.
Relationships: Elizabeth Keen & Raymond Reddington, Elizabeth Keen/Raymond Reddington
Comments: 14
Kudos: 90





	At Long Last

**Author's Note:**

> I was about halfway through this one shot when 7.15 aired so imagine my surprise at the puzzle, really nice wine and Red and Lizzy happy and cozy for one perfect moment. Truly a fanfic episode. They still bring the magic and inspire me after all these years, so I stole Lizzy's line and finished this up. Hope you enjoy.
> 
> Thanks for reading.

“Lizzy, did you hear what I said?”

“Yep.”

“About the blacklister?”

“Uh huh,” she mumbles absentmindedly, walking the perimeter of the room before arriving back at the dining table. “The List Maker. Got it. You know, one could almost call you—“

“I know,” he interjects with a chuckle. “I said the same to Dembe.”

Her eyes linger a moment and she can’t help smiling at his boyish amusement, before moving around the table. A chair or two is tipped back as she searches for what has eluded her.

Finally, his curiosity gets the best of him, watching as she rests her hands on her hips in defeat. “May I ask what you’re looking for?”

“The box.”

“The….”

Quite without thought, Raymond looks around the room and back again.

“...box?”

“The puzzle box.”

His laughter is loud enough to draw the attention of Dembe in the adjacent sitting room, who calls out to them. “You can’t have it.”

“I didn’t ask for it,” Raymond grumbles before turning to Lizzy to explain the rules. “He hides the box. Says it’s more sporting this way. I’ve told him it’s only a jigsaw, but he won’t relent.”

The last is said loud enough to make a point, but Dembe only shakes his head, taking the opportunity to disappear behind his newspaper.

Now that Liz thinks of it, there has never been a box in sight, and there have been many puzzles. Big ones and little ones of every subject imaginable, as constant as the fedora that is always nearby. She takes them for granted now as she comes and goes from his various safehouses, casually stealing a glance to what the latest will be. Sometimes suppressing a smile when the pieces formed a basket of kittens or a box of sprinkled donuts.

She had asked him about it once. How he came to be such a puzzle enthusiast. 

_Dembe thought I needed a distraction._

Not surprising really. She has seen the way his mind races about, strategizing, weighing each outcome, every variable. Overwhelming at times. Exhausting. Pushing him toward the edge.

So there are the puzzles. Lizzy had understood perfectly why Dembe thought they were necessary and has made it a point to observe the latest offerings. A glance or two before moving on to the business at hand. Always the same.

Until today.

Until she stopped and wondered what on earth it could be.

“It’s all very gray,” she states matter-of-factly.

“I’ll be here for days.”

“Well, you’ve got most of the edges and an….eyeball.” She leans forward for a better look, but it is still a mystery. “Is it a seal? Or a whale?”

“No idea, really. I thought perhaps a walrus.” He glares at it a moment longer before continuing. “Call me when Aram has a location.”

Her fingers have begun sifting through the pieces, something she has never done in all this time, but today she is intrigued. Today she doesn’t mind stealing a few extra minutes.

“Lizzy, did you hear what I said?”

“I always hear what you say, Reddington. I don’t always answer.”

She spots the smooth edge she is looking for and fits the last corner piece in time with his soft laughter, closer than she realized as he leaned forward to see. Close enough to cause his voice to drop in that way it sometimes does.

Just for her.

“I’ve been looking for that for ten minutes.”

“You’re welcome,” she replies with an arch of her brow, straightening up and taking a step back when he does the same, annoyed at how flustered she feels all of a sudden.

It deepens his smile, causing the little crinkles to form at his eyes. “Be careful, Lizzy. It is highly addictive.”

Is it her imagination? The slightest warning laced into his words, making her wonder if they are for her or himself.

“I doubt I would have the patience.”

“You’re safe then.” He moves around the table, putting a little more distance between them. “I’ll be waiting for your update.”

Business as usual. Just as it should be.

But she still wonders.

_Safe from what?_

The question runs through her thoughts, making her look back as she walks toward the door. He is focused on the puzzle, leaving the answer out of reach. With a sigh, she leaves to start the case, missing the thoughtful expression that passes over Dembe’s face, still hidden behind the newspaper.

* * *

“We were both wrong.”

“Raymond.” It comes out in a breathy whisper as Lizzy rolls over and nearly falls off the couch where she is napping, realizing a second later that she isn’t dreaming after all.

 _Nick’s Pizza_ remains silent for several seconds, somewhat thrown by that unexpected _Raymond,_ and suddenly feels foolish especially considering the nature of the call. “Lizzy, it seems I’ve woken you up. It’ll keep.”

“No I’m awake, just a bit tired after the case. Why were you wrong?” She smiles hearing him chuckle and snuggles back, closing her eyes.

“It was a manatee.”

“A what?”

“The puzzle. Turned into a rather large manatee.”

“It really did take you days to finish it.”

“Yes, well, I do have other things to do, after all.”

“Right.” She can almost see the smirk that must be forming and tries not to laugh at the image.

“I’ll say good afternoon then.” Softer this time, almost as if he was right there, a breath away. “Get some rest.”

“Um...Raymond?”

“Yes, Elizabeth?”

For some strange reason she doesn’t want to disconnect, but can’t seem to think of anything to say except, “Send me a picture.”

He hesitates, perhaps also wanting to prolong the conversation.

And then she realizes why and continues with a laugh, “Have Dembe send me a picture.”

“Will do.”

It arrives late that night when she is already in bed, staring into the darkness, her thoughts a tangle after the case and all the things she is much too exhausted to think of just yet. The faint beep of her phone has her looking at a rather cute manatee, making her smile. It is the last thing she remembers before closing her eyes and falling asleep.

* * *

“Wow,” Lizzy says from the doorway of the dining room. “How many pieces are there?”

“That information is unfortunately on the box which as you know…”

“I’d forgotten that part.” She steps to the table and surveys the scene, enjoying Dembe’s sense of humor. “It’s very orange. Wonder what it could be.”

“Please don’t joke at a time like this. It’s candy corn as you can plainly see. Thousands of them.”

“You must really like candy—”

“No, I most assuredly do not like candy corn, Elizabeth,” he replies forcefully and then glances beyond her to call into the next room. “It’s not even October yet.”

“That’s why it was on sale,” Dembe returns, not looking up from his book.

“Do you see?” Raymond asks her, throwing out his arms in exasperation before rolling up his sleeves. “I’ll be here for days.”

“So I’ve heard.” After a check of the time, she starts sorting through the pieces closest to her. “I can stay and help finish the border.”

“Don’t you have court today?”

“Later.”

He doesn’t miss the way her brow furrows as she keeps her eyes focused on the puzzle. “You’ll do fine.”

She only nods and they continue on in silence, finding the edges and working from there.

“We’re going to need a bigger….table.”

It makes her laugh, reminding her of the movie line. So similar and one altogether unfamiliar to Raymond.

“What’s so funny?”

“ _We’re going to need a bigger boat.”_

“I’m sorry.”

“Nevermind, I’ll explain later,” she says, smiling at his confusion, before turning her attention back to the puzzle. “There must be some logical way to go about this.”

“There isn’t. It’s chaos.”

Chaos that she would love nothing more than to sift through with him, but with another glance at the clock, she realizes it is not to be. Not today at least.

“I suppose I better be going.”

The pieces he’s been turning this way and that, fall to the table and he walks to her side to link and arm through hers. For whatever reason, today he decides to walk her to the door, out to the tree lined street of this suburban neighborhood and on up the block.

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to.”

And they leave it at that until they reach her car and stop.

And let the seconds tick by, enjoying the quiet with only the sound of the breeze through the leaves overhead.

“You’ll do fine,” he repeats, understanding after all this time the nervousness that finds her at certain moments.

“Yeah,” and just before she gets in the car to drive away, she glances once more over her shoulder. “So will you.”

He is still there, smiling on the sidewalk when she rounds the corner.

* * *

The picture arrives by the end of the week, sometime around midnight. Enough candy corn to fill the length of his table, making her laugh, making her dial the number before there is the chance she will change her mind.

“It’s beautiful.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I’m very serious.” It’s much too easy to imagine him there, hearing the restlessness in his voice, circling the table with scotch in hand. “I’d have dropped by to help, only….”

And he would have called her earlier, made up some excuse, but there were none to be had. No new cases and her expert witness testimony taking up her days. If only.

“I’m sure Dembe already has another lined up.”

“No rest for the weary.”

It was meant to be teasing, but the words ring with the truth of all the reasons he is awake in these early hours and all the reasons he could sense that she would be as well.

“Not always, Lizzy, but sometimes we can find it if we’re very lucky.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing what comes next.”

“Then I’ll be sure to let you know when it makes an appearance,” he returns quietly. “Goodnight.”

He is gone before she has a chance to respond. Before she can tell him to wait, to tell him…

All these things she doesn’t know how to say.

* * *

“So we’re back to gray.”

“Yes, and a bit of blue. No need to guess though,” he replies looking quite pleased with himself and more than a little smug. “It’s a shark.”

Lizzy steps closer to study the little grouping already pieced together, and realizes just whose rather large and dangerous looking teeth they belong to. She laughs just about the time that Dembe does from his usual spot in the sitting room and glances over to nod her approval at the selection.

“What am I missing?”

“Raymond,” she says, moving around to his side and tapping a tooth for emphasis, “It’s _Jaws_.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Now look, you don’t fool me. I know you’re not half as oblivious to pop culture references as you pretend to be so there is no need trying to convince me you’ve never heard of _Jaws_. _We’re going to need a bigger boat,_ remember?”

She swears she hears Dembe mutter something along the lines of _you’re wasting your time,_ but she refuses to relent and folds her arms, waiting for an answer.

“Well?”

There is surprise as well as amusement playing across his face, but judging by her own expression, he feels it better not to push his luck.

“As it happens, I have heard of it, only I tend toward the classics when choosing a film.”

“It _is_ a classic.”

“But it paints the shark as the enemy when really they are noble creatures.”

“Yes, I know, but—”

“And only misunderstood by those that would seek to harm them or invade their habitat.”

Her eyes narrow at that, as she studies him a moment before giving up and swears she hears a snicker from Dembe, who takes that moment to rise and leave them to their squabble. If it is a squabble. She has no idea, with the way he can turn a conversation. Or the way he can read her mind.

“Do you want to keep fighting or help with the puzzle? I left the border for you, knowing you like to work close to the edge.”

“We’re not fighting,” she replies with a roll of her eyes. “And, yes, I have some time to spare.”

“Lizzy, have I told you about the time a thresher tried to eat the small skiff I was captaining with me in it?”

They lose all track of time.

As sometimes happens.

Until the outside world interrupts when Aram calls to remind her of a task force meeting.

“We’ve made a good start to it,” Liz muses as she studies their progress, delaying her return to the Post Office even for a short while.

It’s clear to her then, the way they compliment each other, with her methodical approach of working from the outside toward the center and his more haphazard way of finding small patterns within the chaos.

“I told you it is addictive.”

“Yes, very.”

But it isn't the puzzle she’s looking at when he glances up. It is there in her eyes, a flash of something he has no name for, but gone a second later when she turns to collect her belongings. She gives nothing else away, waving to him over her shoulder.

He wonders, puzzling over the mystery of her long after she had disappeared out of sight.

* * *

It’s become a habit.

Like a corner they have turned without realizing, the way she lingers now, sometimes for only a few extra minutes. Sometimes longer.

“Call when you and Dembe have made contact and Aram and I will meet you.”

“I will.”

“You don’t think he’s stupid enough to try and smuggle a dirty bomb through customs, do you?”

She is sorting through the pieces, her brow furrowed as she concentrates. He watches her, curious whether it is the case or this particular puzzle that seems the harder to solve.

“He will.”

“Here, this goes with that green splotchy section.” She pushes the few pieces she’s managed to combine across the table and looks up before continuing. “A Jackson Pollock really isn’t playing fair. It’ll take days and days to finish.”

“I’ll be sure to pass your message to Dembe.”

The briefest smile, before it vanishes as the weight of the case nudges her toward the door. “Be safe, Raymond.”

“Always, Elizabeth.”

The way it is so simple at times, as if it has always been this easy.

* * *

“You’re just in time,” he calls to her when he hears the click of the front door. “I’m making Coq Au Vin.”

“Raymond,” Lizzy says, rounding the corner of the kitchen. “It’s 7a.m.”

“I’m still on Baku time.”

“If you say so.”

The kitchen table holds the latest puzzle and she walks to it, marveling at Dembe’s ability to somehow know exactly what they need, when she is met with a partially completed world map.

“Where am I supposed to look for Baku?’

“Uh, head east of Turkey. If you hit Uzbekistan you’ve gone too far.”

“Oh well,” she replies with a soft laugh before coming to stand next to him. “There’s nothing after Greece.”

“We’ll have to do something about that, won’t we?”

He’s flown all night yet here he is in his trademark vest, silk tie knotted to perfection with a very worn apron draped overhead. Watching him happily braise the chicken and throw a pinch of salt in and another over his shoulder for luck, she can think of only one thing to say.

“I’m glad you’re home.”

The spoon he’s holding turns a little bit slower as he takes in her words for a moment before picking up speed again and holding it out for her to taste.

“Here, try this.”

It’s marvelous as she expected it would be and she decides immediately that the task force can wait. “I’m impressed.”

“Will you stay for dinner?”

“If you mean breakfast then absolutely.”

The way it leaves them wanting more, that unspoken something that hangs in the air around them, heightening their senses.

* * *

“I had a feeling you’d call, even before you sent the picture.”

“And I had a feeling you’d still be awake, Lizzy.”

She looks at the image again and smiles. Penguins this time, thousands of them, and thousands of pieces they have sorted through for days, finally linked together as they should be.

“I’d like to go there someday.”

“Antarctica? I can’t imagine why.”

“Penguins, of course.” She laughs softly and closes her eyes, imagining him in his reading chair, feet propped on the worn ottoman, for once completely relaxed. “Perhaps a warmer weather variety.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You do that.”

It’s so close, the low rumble of his voice through the phone, almost like the whisper of his touch. Almost.

“Why is it that I’ve never been there at the completion of a puzzle?”

“For some reason they always seem to come together in the middle of the night.”

When he is alone.

It is there between them. Unspoken.

“There’s a simple solution to that,” she murmurs.

He can hear her soft intake of breath and lets his mind wander to where she is for one impossible moment.

“Simple.”

Not a question. It feels like the answer, tantalizingly close. Almost within reach.

“Yes. Goodnight, Raymond.”

* * *

It is the thing he fears.

Why he pushes her away. Why he holds on a bit too tight at times.

It will come, as inevitable as a summer storm, sending them tumbling when everything goes sideways.

And there’s not one damn thing he can do about it.

She wasn’t supposed to be in the warehouse. His surprise was fleeting as his instincts took over, his hand automatically reaching for his weapon, watching in slow motion as she took aim.

A glance back at his suppliers told the tale. He had been betrayed.

_Raymond!_

Her voice spun him around, assuring the bullet would miss its mark. Chaos until his men moved in. By the time he looked back in her direction, she had vanished.

It’s been hours now, but the shots still ring in his ears. He can still feel the heat of the bullet that came too close. Much too close.

These are the nights when the hours will slow to a crawl, not unlike so many others, except this night finds him on her doorstep.

Perhaps it really is this simple.

“You’re right on time,” she says, opening the door almost immediately. “I have pizza and wine. Lots of wine.”

“And I have this.” He’s holding a plastic bag of puzzle pieces and gives them a shake.

It’s all there waiting when he enters the kitchen, two glasses already set out, and even the pizza makes him smile. Half with every topping imaginable and the other her no nonsense pepperoni. As if she knew.

“Very presumptuous, Lizzy, or I’m becoming quite predictable.”

“I just hoped you’d…”

It ends with a simple shrug, before she turns away to open the bottle.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?”

She keeps her back to him, taking longer than necessary to fill the glasses. “I defied a stand-down order. Cooper gave me hell.”

An order she ignored to save his life. “Elizabeth—”

“I chose you, Raymond. It’s what we do.” She draws in a shaky breath before turning. “Let's eat.”

She can’t mask the emotion underneath, but he does as she wishes and lets it all go. What words are there anyway and when she hands him the glass, he raises it in a silent toast, grateful he is here.

They talk about so many nothings while they eat, it’s doubtful they’ll even remember them. Somehow they’re already certain they’ll never forget this night.

“Well, I’m curious to see what this is,” she says, after the first bottle is gone and he has risen to open the second.

It takes only a minute or two as she deposits the pieces across her table, turning them right side up. Hundreds of tiny pinpricks of silver scattered across a sea of black. A map of the constellations.

“Tell Dembe _thank you_ for this.”

“Actually…”

“What?” She looks up, seeing him shift his weight and reach up to adjust his vest only to realize it has been unbuttoned for some time now. It is all the answer she needs. “You picked it out. When?”

“A few weeks ago.”

Waiting for the right time. Waiting for when they would need it most.

“We’ve always done well with starry skies.”

“I’ve often thought the same,” he murmurs, growing still as he follows her path back around the table, nearer to him. “A good one to end with, for now at least.”

“Why the end?”

“Because then something new will begin.”

She thinks of everything they wanted to say that night. She’s certain they will find the way this time, but knows this puzzle will mean just as much to her.

“There’s a particular piece we need to find, Raymond.”

“It’s in there somewhere.” But unlike that night when he pointed toward Polaris, he is looking only at her, and takes a step forward. “Once we have the Big Dipper and the Little Dipper.”

And another step closer.

“It’ll take days,” she whispers.

The final step and he is there, not so very difficult after all. Quite simple when he kisses her and gathers her close as he has wanted for far too long. As they have wanted.

“And days,” he agrees. Breathless. Hopeful.

“We’ll find it.”

At long last.


End file.
